


The Pleasure Among Pleasures

by MonaLuisa



Category: The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26221882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonaLuisa/pseuds/MonaLuisa
Summary: In which Lord Henry is aroused by Dorian Gray’s youthful innocence and wants to introduce the lad to pleasures unknown.
Relationships: Dorian Gray/Henry Wotton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	The Pleasure Among Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place sometime after Sybil Vane has died and Dorian his the portrait, but before the time skip in the book.
> 
> Also I tried to write like Oscar Wilde but everything fell apart a bit when I got to the actual sex part.

Lord Henry let out a laugh, watching the light of the parlour shine upon Dorian Gray’s face, illuminating what was already radiant and golden even further. 

“I swear that it is true, Harry!”

Lord Henry simply laughed again, feeling the smooth taste of brandy linger in his mouth, the wonderful effects of the drink beginning to unravel his senses. “I did not doubt it! I do not know why you must persist in telling me its truthfulness. You are a curious fellow, Dorian, that’s it. You are grown, and yet you still possess all the charms of your youth.”

Dorian Gray furrowed his brow. “Whatever do you mean?”

Lord Henry leaned back in his chair, smiling mischievously and swishing the amber-coloured brandy around in its snifter. “You are no longer a boy. The days of your boyhood were long ago, nothing now but memories, for you have grown into a man. Well, hardly a man, I should say. Though you may be old enough to know how to act in society, and have long outgrown the need to be looked after by your nanny, you are so young, not just in appearance, but in your mannerisms. You are still wonderfully curious, dear boy, and quite naive in some regards. Of course, I mean none of this as an insult to you. I have told you before to value your youth, clutch it to you as a woman would a string of pearls, and I would not have taught you such if your youth, your splendid beauty, did not awaken in me the strangest pleasures.”

Dorian Gray felt his cheeks and ears burn, and in a moment he found himself horribly hot.

“Ah, so I have flattered you,” Lord Henry said, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh. “You blush so easily, Dorian.”

He did not know how to respond, and so instead of speaking, he watched with fascination as Lord Henry gulped down the last of his brandy and set his snifter upon the table. 

“These pleasures you speak of,” the lad began after a long pause, “what are they?”

Lord Henry gave another laugh, a strange, low laugh that tied a knot in Dorian Gray’s stomach. 

“Pleasures you seem to be quite inexperienced with,” Lord Henry said at last. 

“Harry, do not play games with me,” Dorian Gray cried, sounding more desperate than he had meant. 

Lord Henry looked right at him. The lad felt something start in him, causing his cheeks to burn hotter and his stomach to knot itself further, and a shiver ran up his spine at the sensations.

“Oh, you are so desperate to know,” Lord Henry replied slowly. “Dorian, have you ever longed for the touch of a woman?”

“Haven’t we all?”

“You do not understand. Have you ever wanted it so badly that you would do anything to get it, to release the tension that has been building up inside your body, tormenting your senses? Basil had been right about you.There is a charm to your beauty, a charm which draws me in, arouses my senses as though it were the sweet, smoky smell of incense. I understand why he has become so enamored with you.”

“You long for me, Harry,” muttered Dorian Gray, his eyes widening.

Lord Henry nodded slowly, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “As I would a woman.”

Getting up from his seat, he walked towards Dorian Gray and brushed his hand along his fiery cheek, causing the lad to let out a startled cry. 

“I wonder if one could dominate you; mount you as though you were a woman.”

Dorian Gray did not look at his friend, focusing instead on his own shaking hands and staggered breathing.

“Do not be so frightened. You would enjoy it, Dorian. I know you would.”

The lad looked up at Lord Henry, his eyes wild. “Harry, surely you’ve not—”

“I have laid with men before, yes. I have taken them to my bed, given them a piece of myself, listened to their moans of pleasure, and fallen asleep with them cradled in my arms, shaking like frightened birds.”

After a moment, Lord Henry slowly returned his hand to the lad’s cheek, caressing it gently. “It is a marvelous sensation, dear boy. The pleasure among pleasures. I long for it. I long for you. Do you long for me, Dorian?”

Dorian Gray thought for a moment, savouring the warmth of Lord Henry’s hand on his face, and finally answered, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

A wicked smile crept across Lord Henry’s face. “Then let us go to some guest bedroom together and get on with it.”

Dorian Gray got up from his seat, leaving his brandy on the table, and together the two passed out of the parlour into a guest bedroom, where Lord Henry drew the curtains shut before turning to the lad, who sat with his muscles stiff on the bed.

“You are quite nervous, aren’t you?” Lord Henry asked. “Don’t be. I shall take care of everything. For now, you must let everything happen to you. You must be docile, submissive. Look in the mirror, Dorian, and admire yourself. You are as beautiful as any woman I would take to bed, and knowing it’s you with me shall pleasure me twice as much as any woman. Basil had been right to worship you with his art. I shall do so with my body.”

Lord Henry took the lad by the hand, leading him in front of the gilded mirror on the wall and brushing his hand along his cheek before moving down to his neck and beginning to undo his necktie.

Dorian Gray let out a soft moan of pleasure. Lord Henry felt something rising in his trousers.

“I told you that you would like it,” he whispered, leaning his head on the lad’s shoulder and moving his hand down to feel his nipples. “Look at yourself, Dorian. You are perfectly powerless, as though I hold your soul in my hand.

The lad looked into the mirror at his hot face, his horribly red ears. His mouth was slightly open, the way it had been in Basil Hallward’s wretched portrait before Sybil Vane’s death twisted it into a terrible, cruel sort of smile. The thought of the thing sickened him, and for a moment he thought of leaving Lord Henry and brooding about the thing in the locked room at the top of the house, but a hand suddenly wandering down to his erect prick reminded him that leaving would mean missing the pleasure among pleasures his friend had spoken of.

“I can see you are quite enjoying this already,” Lord Henry said mischievously. “You must be quite hot under your clothing. Take it off, Dorian, and I will do the same.”

Both men began to remove their clothing until they had become naked. Lord Henry looked over Dorian Gray’s near-hairless body in admiration. 

“My God, you are like Apollo!”

The lad laughed slightly, a purely innocent laugh from the joy of being complimented. “You do not mean half the things you say, Harry.”

“What can I say? You are beautiful. Now, go to the bed like a good boy.”

Dorian Gray laid atop the sheets, savouring the feeling of the green silk velvet against his bare back and wondering what his friend was to do with him. Lord Henry began to approach the bed, though his eyes suddenly widened, and he groaned with disappointment.

“What is wrong?” the lad asked, confused.

Lord Henry sighed. “I am afraid that I require some sort of lubricant. I really should have thought to ask beforehand, and I apologise for my forgetting to do so. Tell me, Dorian, have you any olive oil?”

“Olive oil?”

“Yes, you stupid thing, olive oil.”

The lad blushed, a strange sort of desire growing in him at the thought of Lord Henry calling him a stupid thing. “I believe I do.”

“Where is it?”

“In the pantry.”

“I hate to ask you, though I’m afraid you must go get it. Dress yourself, lad, and pray to God none of the servants notice the blush on your face or the fact that you’re taking food from the pantry. I shall wait for you here.”

Dorian Gray dressed himself and passed out of the room, luckily having no sort of trouble with the servants and returning after a short period of time with the bottle of oil, growing further aroused at the sight of Lord Henry lying naked on the bed, his legs slightly spread and his prick erect.

Lord Henry sat up. “Ah, so you have got it! Wonderful. Set it on the nightstand. Remove your clothes, Dorian. There’s no point in keeping them on.”

Dorian Gray undressed himself and went to the bed, sitting next to Lord Henry, who cupped the lad’s face in his hand once more and pressed his lips to his. 

The kiss lasted a long time, as neither one wanted to let the other go. 

“Good boy,” whispered Lord Henry after breaking away. “Now, bend over.”

The lad did as he was told and soon felt Lord Henry on his knees behind him, his fingers running through his curly hair, pulling it ever so slightly.

Lord Henry pulled his hand back, and reaching for the bottle on the nightstand, he poured a bit of olive oil on his hand and began to slide his lubricated fingers inside Dorian Gray, who let out a whimper. 

“Don’t cry like that. Doesn’t it feel good?”

The lad did not reply, breathing heavily.

At last, Lord Henry was to have his wish. He would finally be able to make love to the boy, feel his straw-gold hair in his hands, plant rough kisses upon his flesh. He placed his left hand on Dorian Gray’s bare hips, beginning to push himself inside his warmth, and with his right covered the lad’s mouth so that he would not alert the servants.

He saw him wince from the pain and heard his muffled cries into his hand.

“It’s alright, dear. Just clutch onto the pillows. It will feel good soon.”

It was so warm inside him, so tight. The sight of the boy beneath him, wincing in pain and blushing madly, was almost enough to make Lord Henry climax right then and there.

He began to thrust inside the lad, moving his hands up to his shoulder blades, sinking his nails into him as his pleasure grew. Dorian Gray took staggered breaths, fighting back the hot tears that welled in his eyes from the pain. Was this what it was to be a woman penetrated by her husband? The organs of women were made to be penetrated, the lad thought. He was allowing Lord Henry to dominate him in unnatural ways; the pain was simply the price to pay for it. But if the pain was so great, why was he so aroused by it? Why did he wish for Lord Henry to scar his flesh, to draw his blood? 

His hand left the pillow and wandered down to his prick, stroking it gently as Lord Henry grunted into his ear, his cheek resting on Dorian Gray’s soft yellow curls. 

“Kiss me, Harry,” he stuttered. “I beg you!”

Lord Henry did not need any more prompting, laying his lips upon the lad’s pale neck and sucking on his flesh as he moved about inside of him. Something came across him, and he began to bite at the lad’s skin.

“Harder,” he whimpered, feeling the teeth sink deeper. “Yes, that is wonderful!”

Lord Henry thrust more deeply into Dorian Gray. He was close to finishing; he could feel it from the way his stomach fluttered at every movement of the two of them. The pain Dorian Gray was experiencing began to give way to intense pleasures he had never before experienced, and he let out a moan, removing his hand from his prick.

“Harder!”

“Dorian,” Lord Henry breathed. “You are—ah!” He could not finish, instead opting to thrust himself harder into the beautiful boy before him, feeling his hot seed spill into him and letting out a loud groan as he collapsed onto his back, breathing heavily and clutching at the lad’s chest.

Dorian Gray loved the newfound warmth inside of him, and was sad to have some of it spill out onto the green velvet as Lord Henry removed his prick, causing him a bit of discomfort. 

The two laid on the bed together.

“My God,” Lord Henry muttered. “I have never enjoyed that so much.” 

“Then allow me that same pleasure and get on your knees, Harry.”

Lord Henry smirked. “Are you trying to give me orders?”

“On your knees,” the lad repeated. 

“You are not to command me, Dorian. You must be punished for doing so.”

“Then do your worst,” the lad whispered, anticipation bubbling inside of him.

He felt a hand strike him across the face, pleasuring him more than it pained him.

“You will not talk back to me, you wicked thing, or I shall leave you to pleasure yourself!”

Dorian Gray did not respond.

“Apologise!”

“I’m sorry,” the lad muttered. “It will not happen again. Don’t leave me, Harry, I beg you.”

Lord Henry left the bed and walked to the other side of it, examining his friend with his hand on his chin and raising his eyebrows. “Perhaps I shall not. If you promise to be a good boy, I will get on my knees.”

“I promise.”

“You promise what?”

“I promise I will be a good boy, Harry.”

“Very well, then.” He fell to his knees. Dorian Gray sat up, swinging his legs toward him and spreading them. Lord Henry rested his head on the lad’s thigh for a moment, running his hand along the inside of the opposite leg. 

He began to kiss the leg he rested on, biting it slightly every now and then, getting closer and closer to the lad’s erect prick. After some time, he pulled himself up, resting his hands again on his hips and kissing the lad’s stomach. 

“This is not what I meant for you to do, Harry.”

Lord Henry looked up at him. “Silence,” he whispered sternly. 

“If you do not soon touch me, I shall do it myself.”

Lord Henry sunk his nails hard into the lad’s hips as a warning, lowering himself once more and putting his lips to his prick, giving it a kiss before beginning to suck on it. 

Dorian Gray wrapped his legs around the man, ushering him closer to him and bringing his hands to his hair as Lord Henry had done while inside of him. The feel of his prick in his mouth was heavenly, his tongue touching all the right places. He wanted to push himself harder inside the man, though he was somewhat afraid to. Lord Henry had told him to be docile, to let everything happen to him. That was good advice, the lad thought. Lord Henry would take care of him. 

The man removed his mouth from Dorian Gray, whose brow furrowed.

“Why have you stopped?”

“Because I like to see you desperate for me,” Lord Henry answered, gently running a finger along the lad’s prick. Dorian Gray shuttered, causing his friend to laugh. “Look at you. You’re already halfway there! You are like a harlot, Dorian.”

“Bring yourself back!” the lad cried. 

“Beg for it.”

“Harry, I beg you, don’t leave me on my own! You said such beauty as mine was to be worshipped; do not make me worship myself!”

“Very well then,” Lord Henry said begrudgingly and he began to suck Dorian Gray once more.

The lad let out a moan. The sensation felt even better than it had before.

“Make me come, Harry,” he cried. “I want nothing more!”

Lord Henry began to suck on the lad harder, running his hand along his thigh. Dorian Gray threw his head back, tugging slightly at Lord Henry’s hair. The warmth of his hand on his leg, the feel of his tongue, the sting of his cheek where Lord Henry had slapped him, it was all too much for the lad. With a cry of pleasure, he came into the man’s mouth.

Lord Henry did not particularly enjoy the warm bitterness of his seed, though for the sake of this beautiful young thing before him, shaking with pleasure, he removed his mouth from his prick and swallowed it down, looking straight at the lad. 

A beat of silence passed as he caught his breath.

“Harry,” Dorian Gray said at last. “I cannot thank you enough for introducing me to such pleasures.”

Lord Henry laughed. “Ah, you are so obedient. Much better than some others, I’d say. You are what made it so enjoyable.”

A look of uncertainty crossed the lad’s face. 

“Is all well?”

Dorian Gray was quiet a moment before asking, “Do you love me, Harry?”

Lord Henry sighed, standing up and beginning to dress himself. “You know I am not one to love. Not the way you might, anyways. I love the way you excite my senses, the feeling of being inside you, but I do not love you the way your poor Sibyl Vane did.”

Dorian Gray became slightly disappointed, unsure of the reason why. “Will we do this again sometime, Harry?”

“I should enjoy that very much.” Lord Henry answered.

The lad smiled.


End file.
